Too Old for Pirates
by Miss Ami-chan
Summary: Just a short that goes along with some of KeatsLove's "Pirates of the Caribbean" work. Will and Elizabeth as pre-teens on the island.


Brown's passed out inside, again, and I'm trying not to be ticked off about it. Work actually goes a lot faster without him breathing down my neck, and making me nervous, also means I mess up less, which is always a plus.

I plunge the latest into the water to cool down. It's not the only thing that could do with cooling down.

"I'm going to go up to the dock for a bit and cool off," I tell him. There's a change in pitch and a grunt which I take for a yes. After wiping my face down to make myself a bit less grubby I leave before he wakes up properly. He's not been asleep too long, so hopefully I can take a half hour or so. It's not as though he's going to beat me for disappearing, but a sound telling off with that stale breath of his is worth avoiding if possible.

It's a pretty decent day out, no chance of rain, although the heat from the forge would make that welcome, if I'm being honest. Days like this though, I might see Elizabeth going round and about half the time that's pleasant depending on what sort of game-playing mood she's in.

As luck would have it, I don't see her, before I figure it's best to turn around and make my way back to the shop. Lingering around like an idiot's not going to do anyone any favours least of all me, with Brown's shouting a possibility.

There's someone in a bevy of skirts trying to peek through the door to the shop when I get back though, and as she sheepishly turns around it is "Miss Swann".

"Oh, there you are!" she says, "I couldn't hear anything…and the door is so dirty I daren't knock or my father would know I'd been by…" she treats me to a smile, and bobs up and down in that way she does when she's wanting me to notice something so that I'll compliment her on it.

"I'd best not keep you then, if he's expecting you…"

She pouts a bit then, and edges a little away from the door as I go to push it open. If I'm careful I can duck through without setting the bell off and waking Brown, "I have time…" she says, turning a lock of hair around in one finger, the angle she's at right now I can see down the front of her dress, and it's very, very hard to try and not look, or look without being too…

"...was there something you wanted?" I force myself to look past her towards the docks again, and almost loose footing on the step.

"How busy are you?" she asks, taking a step closer.

"I'm working on a set of fire-irons for the Pickerings."

"Can it wait?" she looks up, hopeful.

We're very close together now, and the only option is to back up into the shop, but at this angle I'm not going to manage to avoid the bell, or I'm going to trip and either land backwards in the shop probably knocking over half our wares or forwards into her breasts. Must not look at the…

"Elizabeth, please…I…"

"You what?" and then it happens, and both she and I go tumbling through the door way, and she lands on top of me with a loud clatter. I expect Brown to up and roaring at us, but he's not there. The shop is empty, "Will—are you alright?"

"I'm fine…" I manage.

She leans down and looks at my head, and I try to focus on anything else than where her thighs are, and her chest brushing against mine and her hair falling in waves over my face, and the scent, and wanting to grab her and pull her down closer and just drink everything in…

"Will?"

I blink.

"Are you alright?"

Elizabeth, standing outside the shop, having just arrived as I was walking back from the docks, I better not be blushing. I could do without another round of being called "Will Scarlett" right now.

"Yes, fine…" I cough, and look down the street, and down the street the other way, and then walk towards the shop, and try to lean on the door frame and miss and almost trip though.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Yes…fine…I…did you want something?"

"I was wondering if you'd come round later on. If you're not busy…we're just going through the market right now, but we could have a rematch. Pirates?"

"Sure," my mouth says, even though I really don't think that's a good idea, and I really wanted to come up with some kind of excuse.

Her face lights up in a brilliant smile though, "I'll see you later then!" and she waves running to catch up with her father and the group with him, gripping hold of the hat on her head, ribbons flying behind her.

I can just catch Governor Swann saying, "Elizabeth, do go slower, it's not lady-like to run through the streets like that!"

And a breathless, "Sorry," from her, as she stops and adjusts her skirts, smoothing her hands over her back and retying the ribbons on her hat with her long fingers, her chest moving up and down as she catches the air.

I think we're too old for playing pirates.

That's what I should have said.


End file.
